May I tell my daughter that she should lose weight?

five of the seven days of the Wombi says that you will eat less. It’ll be the summer and until then, she wanted to have your character optimized. The go “then, eh quickly,” she says, “anyway, it’s still a lot of time until summer” and “the day before that I made eh Sport.” To lose weight it behaves as with the clean-up, Cycling, and Learning. You do it in the morning.

Christiane Tauzher: The Pubertäterin

Since puberty, our daughter, the mosquito, shortly after her 13. Birthday in your violence, we keep the Windows closed so the neighbors call the police. The Pubertäterin is not loud and unpredictable, when she sleeps, just like a Wombat, or eat – what you do for luck often.

The stories I tell – a journalist, 41, from Vienna, married to Olaf, a 46 – here, not act, of course, the Pubertäterin in my family. No. They come from my thriving imagination or come from other families. There, it is arg in the other families … 😉

Of the holiday week, has spent the Wombi with her grandmother on a lake in the mountains, she came up with red cheeks and a kilogram more. “We only ate healthy things,” assured the Wombi, and also the grandmother, which was during my Kinderheit on a permanent diet, even though she was a delicate person, with a wasp-waist, and wondered how that could be. “Our scale is broken,” concluded the Wombi. The washing machine did it, the scale is the same, because suddenly, the pants went in and tweaked the Wombi.

“do you Think I’m fat?”, she asked me. “No,” I said. “You’re lying,” said the Wombi. “I like you,” I said, “no matter how much you weigh.”

I know of course that it’s educational and it’s totally wrong to say this to his young child, that it should decrease a bit. It would look like with less body in the skin tight Jeans with short sweaters much better. That it is more comfortable and would feel that it would be healthier, discipline and sportsmanship is already at teenagers more than the latest iPhone.

“can’t make you,” said my friend, “you’re still in the anorexia.” Although I can’t imagine that the pleasure-oriented Wombi would ever lose the pleasure of eating – but I know the many horror stories of young girls, to eat out of sorrow have ceased. The Wombi has, fortunately, no such known to me of grief.

“You have grown pretty,” she said to me recently. I laughed about it. “Could be,” I answered casually. As all were in bed, I eyed myself in front of the mirror. Where had I grown? The scale gave me. I was, as always. Nevertheless, I put on the other day, a baggy sweater, and fed me slices of cucumber. To Safety.

My father, an elegant, slender man, had often said that he would find fat women disgusting. I always felt addressed, and since I didn’t want my father was embarrassed for me, I met with nine calories table by heart, which hung in the kitchen.

The Wombi believe that a Pizza Margherita is healthy, because you wheat, tomatoes, and Basil. Recently, I’ve tried lentil pasta – a protein-rich Alternative to normal noodles. The Wombi assured me, no bite “from the floury stuff” down to get a hip on the cracked-glass from your stock.

“Latte caramel” – just a Cup of coffee?

it usually is. The offer falls miss her. Breakfast is not anyway, because the time from getting up to Leaving the house with Beautify it. Only the Trim, Paint and Styling of the eyebrows takes five-ten minutes. The Wombi buys on the way to school, at McDonald’s a “Latte caramel” and thinks it’s “just a coffee”.

at Noon she eats at school. When I post detail questions, I “went” to the answer.

in the Evening, the Hunger is in the Wombi always the greatest, and the Toaster runs hot. Sometimes the Wombi then climbs on the elliptical machine in the basement, to – 300 calories burned later – the Blank with milk, bread, or chocolate bars to replenish. Most of the time I say nothing. Sometimes. “The nothing”, for example.

The Olaf also likes to eat and says “let them”. When we first met 18 years ago know, I didn’t want to go out with him, because he was to me plauzig. It was only when he’d had five pounds, I let myself be talked into a Cup of coffee. Candlelight Dinner there was only ten pounds later. And the wedding bells rang at minus 15.

Yes, I was fucking disturbed superficial and somehow. Maybe, nothing has changed. To be thick is still a nightmare. Although my elegant father is no longer alive.

Yes, in my opinion, should remove the Wombi. But the Wombi is not interested in my opinion. And that is interactive and East to use.

the other day – she wore instead of the sausage-tube in an oscillating advantageous dress – I said, “today you look so pretty” and you replied, “I’m always pretty.” She’s right.